Mistletoe and Wine
by sauscony
Summary: B/G - Response to a 2000 Christmas challenge. (See part 1 for challenge requirements.)
1. Challenge Requirements

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
The Challenge  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

A Buffy and Giles Christmas Story in response to a challenge from Gileswench on [bg-fanfic-adult]. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have made an effort to include ALL of Gileswench's challenge requirements into this story, although you will see as it progresses that I've twisted a couple of them to make them fit. Hey, this is a fun fic and that's the fun of fanfic. See if you can find them all. Oh yeah, and Angel is in this. I'm sorry, sue me, but I like him and he wanted to join in the Christmas festivities so I let him. Don't worry though, this is a happy fic and he won't be causing any problems for Buffy and Giles. (Or none of the kind you might expect, anyway.) 

FEEDBACK: Well, I'm certainly not going to complain! :-) 

THE CHALLENGE: 

Okay folks, it's been too quiet around here lately so I'm posting a Christmas challenge. It's due by Boxing day (December 26, for those unfamiliar). 

Pairing: B/G (how do you spell "duh"?) 

Rating: Any. Be as naughty or nice as you please. 

Must include ALL of the following: A non-traditional use for a candy cane, either Giles or Wesley telling someone: "You know, when I take off my glasses, you're beautiful", Giles playing his guitar, a home made Christmas gift. 

Must include at least THREE (3) of the following: Alternate lyrics to a Christmas Carol, somebody watching a well-known holiday movie or tv show, Anya misinterpreting a Christmas tradition, Buffy and Giles patrolling together, a lump of coal in someone's Christmas stocking, Buffy crying. 

There it is, folks. Good luck, and have fun! 

Gileswench 


	2. Is It Morning Yet?

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Is It Morning Yet?  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

"Is it morning yet?" 

The words were whispered, coming from a small figure standing in the bedroom doorway, dressed in red Santa pyjamas and clutching a battered and obviously well-loved teddy bear, the light from the hallway nightlight creating golden glints in her blonde hair. 

When she didn't get any response she tried again, the whisper a lot louder this time. 

"Is it morning yet?" 

Buffy groaned and rolled over, feeling there was something interfering with what was a most pleasant dream; something about herself, Rupert, a large hot tub and scented bath oil. Okay, there was a pink spotted cow too, but she was trying to ignore that part of it. A moment later her now well-honed mother's instincts kicked in and she opened her eyes to the darkness, alert for any problems or dangers. 

Beside her, her husband continued to sleep the sleep of the just. _Or the totally exhausted_, she added to herself with a wicked smile as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. 

She spotted the small intruder almost immediately. "Is that you, Miri?" she called softly. "What are you doing out of bed?" 

"Is it morning yet?" four year old Miriam Giles asked again. "Can I get up and see if Santa came?" 

Buffy glanced at the bedroom clock, which shone 2:07 at her in solid, uncompromising red numbers. "No, sweetie," she said firmly. "It isn't morning. No Santa yet." 

That wasn't entirely true, as she and Giles had added the last of the Christmas presents to the already oversized pile under the tree before they had come up to bed. But the help provided to Santa by normal, boring adults was a harsh reality little Miri didn't need to be exposed to just yet. 

Miri thought about that for a moment, then sighed loudly. "When will it be morning?" she asked finally. 

"After you go back to sleep again," another voice rumbled quietly and Buffy looked over to see Rupert awake and trying hard not to laugh. "Santa only comes when little girls are asleep." 

Miri thought some more. "Can I sleep in your bed?" 

Buffy and Giles exchanged understanding, resigned looks. "Of course you can, love," Giles agreed and with a whoop of delight that was rather too loud considering the time of night, Miri clambered onto the bed, bounced her way up from the bottom end and snuggled under the covers between them, proving once again that she had the manoeuvre down to a well-honed art. 

Buffy found her a pillow and she curled up happily between them with Albert Bear cuddled in her arms, wide awake and clearly ready to talk. 

"Santa's bringing me a bike," she informed them confidingly. 

"Is he really?" Buffy asked, knowing there was no way Miri was going to go back to sleep until she'd got this out of her system. She punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape and resigned herself to giving up a portion of her own night's sleep. 

"How's he going to fit it down the chimney?" Rupert asked, still amused. 

"Oh." Miri sounded totally crestfallen, a hint of tears in her voice. "A bike's too big," she concluded unhappily. 

Buffy threw her husband a dirty look and wrapped an arm around the little girl, smoothing her hair with her other hand. "It's all right," she promised soothingly. "It's magic. Santa can use his magic to get bikes inside if he wants to." 

Rupert shrugged his shoulders and looked so suitably apologetic that Buffy thought she might have to forgive him for the careless comment. He adored Miri and would never intentionally do anything to upset her. But no-one's brain works as properly as it should at two in the morning and Buffy rather thought that yes, she would forgive him - after he'd made up with her suitably of course. 

"Magic," Miri repeated, and Buffy was relieved to hear that her voice was calm again. "Like Auntie Willow and Auntie Tara?" 

"No," Giles answered. "It's special Santa-magic, especially for getting bikes down chimneys. It's different." 

Miri considered that. "Okay," she agreed finally. "But he won't come if I'm awake?" 

"Oh no," Buffy said firmly. "Little girls and boys have to be asleep for Santa to come." 

Miri screwed her eyes up tight and announced firmly, "I'm asleep." 

Buffy and Giles exchanged looks as Buffy kept smoothing the little girl's hair, knowing that if she wasn't asleep now, she would be soon. 

As Miri's breathing smoothed out and deepened, Buffy carefully reached across her to thump her husband on the arm. "Really, Rupert," she hissed in patent mother-tones, guaranteed not to wake sleeping children. "Did you have to say that?" 

"I was still asleep," he protested in a matching voice. "It's the middle of the night." 

"It's the night before Christmas," Buffy pointed out. "Didn't you ever go wandering to see if Santa had come yet?" 

"We called him Father Christmas," Rupert answered. "And I wouldn't have dared get up before Mother came to wake me." He smiled suddenly. "I used to get a _lot_ of reading done on Christmas morning." 

Buffy chuckled softly. "That's my man. Head in a book from the age of what? Six?" 

"Three," Giles admitted. "I was a bit precocious when it came to books." 

"Three?" Buffy repeated. "That's sick." 

Giles smiled. "Thank you, love. From you, that's a compliment." 

"You're still in trouble," Buffy warned him. "You shouldn't have upset Miri like that." 

"I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry. You covered well for me, though." 

"You did okay at the end, too," she conceded. 

"So am I forgiven?" 

"I'm thinking about it," she told him. 

Giles gave her a deliberately lecherous look. "I'll make it up to you when we don't have a child in the bed between us." 

Buffy grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Mister." The grin softened into a smile. "Love you, Rupert." 

He smiled back. "Love you, Buffy." 


	3. Eggnog and Pancakes

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Eggnog and Pancakes  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

Susan Giles peeped through the open bedroom door, completely unsurprised to see a small figure asleep between the two adults. She was just trying to decide whether to leave all three sleeping or attempt to extract the littlest one without waking the other two, when Miri solved the problem for her. 

She sat up, rubbed her eyes and yawned, then saw Susan standing at the door. She opened her mouth to say something and Susan hurried to forestall her. 

"Shhhh," she whispered quickly. "Shhhh," she repeated and put a finger over her lips. Nothing if not quick, Miri nodded solemnly and pretended to zipper her mouth shut with her fingers. 

Trying not to laugh, Susan beckoned to the little girl and Miri scrambled out of the bed with the same ease she had clambered into it and padded across the room to the door, trailing Albert Bear behind her by a firm grip on one of his paws. 

Susan pulled the door shut and made sure it was firmly closed. "Good girl," she whispered to Miri. "We'll let Gran and Grandad sleep some more." She swung her daughter into her arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, Kitten." 

At the magic word, Miri's eyes lit up. "It's morning and I went to sleep. Did Santa come?" 

Seeing her mother's confused look, Miri explained patiently, "Gran said if I went to sleep again, Santa would come." 

"Ah." Susan smiled as she started down the stairs. _Blackmail. It works nearly every time._ "If you've been that good, darling, I'm sure Santa came." 

"Can we look?" Miri asked. Seeing her mother starting to shake her head, she added quickly, "Albert Bear wants to look, not me." 

At that, Susan really had to laugh. "You know we don't open presents until everyone gets here, Miri. But since Albert is so desperate, maybe we could just peep through the door and see if the tree is all right." 

"For Albert," Miri repeated. 

"For Albert," Susan agreed with as close to a straight face as she could manage. "Then we'll go and help Auntie Joy and Aunt Dawn. They're making breakfast for everyone." 

Hazel Winters almost collided with Miriam as she walked through the front door at the same moment the little girl came hurtling along the corridor. She stepped back a pace to avoid being flattened, but the miniature tornado came to a sudden, screeching halt when it saw her. 

"Hazel, Hazel, Hazel," Miri carolled happily and trapped her in a hug that barely reached past her knees. 

Knowing what was expected of her, Hazel pulled the girl into her arms and settled her on her hip. "Oouuf," she breathed in her soft voice. "You're getting too big to carry around, young lady." 

"I'm a big girl now," Miri agreed cheerfully and wrapped her arms around Hazel's neck to make sure she couldn't be put down again. 

"Sure you are," Susan said as she reached the pair. She smiled at the older girl. "Merry Christmas, Hazel." 

Hazel flashed her a brilliant smile, one that lit her face and filled her eyes, sparking a light in them that made their odd blue-green colour more astounding than usual. With her fine, beautiful face, a sweep of auburn hair women would be prepared to kill for and a figure that tended to have the same effect on men, Hazel Winters could easily have been a model or if a movie star if she hadn't had other responsibilities. Susan, with the wisdom being ten years older gave her, thought it was to Hazel's credit that she had always laughed off any such suggestions with genuine amusement. At eighteen, she finally seemed to have convinced people that she had other plans for her life and now just wanted to be left alone to get on with it. 

"Happy Holidays, Mrs Giles." She smiled down at Miri. "Has the ragamuffin been good this year?" 

"Judging by the pile of parcels under the tree, I guess she must have been," Susan answered with a chuckle while Miri nodded vigorously. "And my name is Susan - I think you're old enough to call me that now." 

"Oh." Hazel looked momentarily uncertain and Susan gave her a stern look. 

"I mean it," she said firmly. "Susan. Now, Miri and I were just on our way to help with breakfast. Want to join us?" 

"Sure," Hazel agreed, and seeing the look on the other woman's face added hesitantly, "Susan." 

The Giles family kitchen was - and always had been - much larger than the casual visitor might expect necessary for a family with only three children. But, as anyone who _wasn't_ a casual visitor would know, to Rupert and Buffy Giles the word "family" encompassed a lot more than their immediate relatives. The size of the kitchen - and the rest of the huge old house - reflected that and the Giles home had been filled to overflowing and beyond many time over the years. 

There were only two people inside when Hazel walked in, still carrying Miri on her hip, and they both looked up as she crossed the slate tiles, her footsteps echoing quietly around the room. 

The younger woman immediately abandoned her mixing bowl and hurried across the kitchen to envelop her niece and her best friend in a shared hug. She kissed Hazel on the cheek, Miri on the top of her head and grinned. "Happy Christmas, both of you." Joy Giles, just twenty-one the past September, flicked a glance at her sister-in-law who was still standing in the doorway and added belatedly, "You too, Susan." 

"Hi Hazel." Dawn Summers didn't stop sifting flour, but she did give the newcomers one of her trademark smiles; the one that any of her readers would have recognised immediately from the dust jackets of her books and the website Joy maintained in what she jokingly referred to as her "copious spare time". Since Joy was a professional site designer and was paid handsomely for the job, Dawn never even bothered to respond to the gibes, just gave instructions to her niece about what she wanted done next and expected it to happen. 

Hazel smiled back as she set Miri on her own two feet again. "Merry Christmas, Aunt Dawn. How's the new book?" 

"Don't ask," Dawn declared dramatically. "My stupid hero has decided to fall for the wrong girl and I'm going to have to rewrite half of it." 

"She been moaning about ever since she arrived," Joy told her friend in a theatrical whisper. "Mom said we should just ignore her." 

"I just don't know what happened to respect for one's elders," Dawn proclaimed with a sigh and Joy giggled. 

"We respect you, Aunt Dawn," she insisted. "We just make fun of you, too." 

Dawn shook her head. "Hear me changing the subject. How are your Moms, Hazel?" 

"Baking," Hazel answered in a deliberately horror-movie tone of voice. "When I noticed there were more spell books than cook books on the counter I decided it was time to get out before the house blew up or something." 

"I only remember one major fire," Dawn said mildly, absently patting Miri on the head and trying to steer her away from the bowl of pancake batter. 

Distracted, Miri looked up. "Can Auntie Tara make fires? Would she make one for me?" 

"No, she would not!" Susan declared firmly, pulling her away from the big centre bench and keeping a firm grasp on her daughter's shoulders. 

"Actually," Hazel said, "It's your Auntie Willow who makes fires, but she only does it on very special occasions." 

"Or when her spells go wrong," Dawn muttered. 

"Hey," Joy protested with a laugh. "That's my friend's mother you're insulting there." 

"Adoptive mother," Dawn pointed out pedantically. 

"Whatever," Hazel answered, grinning. "Battle axes at fifty paces?" 

Dawn flicked flour in her direction instead. "Condiments at dawn!" 

Joy and Hazel exchanged understanding glances and charged, approaching the woman they both called "aunt" from different sides. That was when Dawn realised what she had just said. 

"Hey!" she protested, backing into a corner and taking the mixing bowl with her as if that provided some kind of protection. "I didn't mean _me_. I only meant the time of day. You know, _dawn_, as in just as the sun comes out." She gestured in the direction of the kitchen window where the sky was shading from sunrise pink to the blue of day. "Like now." 

Joy stopped suddenly in mid-step, her face gone serious. "Where's Bree? She said they'd both be here for breakfast." 

Susan glanced out the window. "Well she'd better hurry up, because there's going to be a whole lot of sun, real soon." 


	4. Willkommen

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Willkommen  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

Buffy reached the bottom of the stairs, her husband a few steps beside her, just as the front door crashed open and two figures hurtled through it. Without needing to think, she hurried across the hallway and slammed the door shut. She turned back, leaning against the closed door and glared at her elder daughter and her daughter's boyfriend. 

"You're cutting it a bit fine, aren't you?" she queried acidly. "Sweeping the dust off the doorstep wasn't in my Christmas plans." 

Brianna gave her mother a disgusted look, one only daughters knew how to give. "Chill out, Mom. We made it." 

Angel straightened up and gave a lopsided, apologetic smile. "Sorry Buffy, we lost track of the time." 

Brianna smirked, something Buffy missed because she was too busy glaring at the vampire. "I might not be the Slayer anymore, but you make my daughter unhappy by doing something _stupid_ like frying yourself because you..." Her voice grew glacial. "..._Lost track of the time_ and I'll stake you with the first bit of wood I find." 

"That would be rather difficult if he was already dust," Giles commented mildly, coming up beside her and slipping an arm around her waist. 

Buffy turned her gaze on him. "You're not helping, Rupert," she said crossly. "You know what I mean." 

"Stop it!" Brianna snapped suddenly. "We're okay. We made it. What happened to the Christmas spirit around here?" 

Startled, Buffy actually looked at her daughter. Brianna's face was flushed and there was a hurt expression on her face, one that tightened the skin around her mouth and put a furrow across her brow. Instantly contrite, Buffy abandoned her husband to give her daughter, who was a good few inches taller than she was, the most enveloping hug she could manage. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said into Brianna's shoulder. "Merry Christmas." She stepped back a pace and looked up. "I just worry about you." Her gaze turned to Angel. "Both of you." 

Brianna's face and posture relaxed. "I know, Mom. But Angel's had a lot of practice at not getting caught in the sun." She looked over at the vampire and without her even realising it she began to smile, suddenly looking almost beautiful. "We were exchanging..." She blushed suddenly and her voice trailed away. 

"...Christmas presents," Angel finished smoothly. 

"Yeah, right," Buffy agreed sardonically. She gave Angel a dark look. "Just don't do anything stupid. We went through that thirty years ago, and once was very definitely enough." 

Angel's voice was suddenly serious. "I love Brianna, Buffy. I love her more than I've loved _anyone_." There was an emphasis on the last word that all four of them understood, even if they generally chose not to put into words. "I wouldn't do _anything_ to put her at risk." 

"See that you don't," Giles told him in his best father-voice, but there was a glint of friendship there; it might have taken the two men a lot of years to reach a point where they could be friends, but now that they were, their friendship was a strong one. 

"Bree!" There was a delighted cry from further along the hall and Joy came running up, trapping her sister in a solid hug. "Merry Christmas. I thought you weren't going to make it and we'd be helping you sweep up the dust." She grinned across at Angel. "No offence or anything." 

"None taken," he agreed gravely, and Buffy began to laugh. 

"Come on, everyone, who's going to help me prepare breakfast?" 

"All done," Dawn told her smugly. "Come and eat." 

"Egg nog and pancakes," Miri declared importantly. 

Susan brushed a hand across her daughter's hair. "So how about you go and find Daddy and Jeremy and tell them it's breakfast time?" she suggested. 

"Hokay," Miri agreed cheerfully, following up a moment later with a loud shout of, "Daddy!" that made Hazel, who was standing nearby, screw up her eyes before grabbing one of Miri's hands. 

"Come on, Kitten. We'll go together." She pulled Miri along the hallway and in moments the little girl was skipping at her side. 

Everyone else headed in the other direction, towards the kitchen and breakfast. 

Breakfast quickly turned into a loud, cheerful affair. The kitchen was big, but it was still a squash to fit in nine adults, one hyperactive four year old and a baby. Angel and Brianna ended up perched on the bench beside the sink, sharing a plate, pancakes and private conversation that stopped any time anyone else got close. Miri roamed at random, coming back for another bite of breakfast only when someone reminded her to eat. Her baby brother, Jeremy, proceeded to make a very large mess, not only all over the highchair, but also a large section of the floor as he made his first attempt at eating something that wasn't totally pureed. Everyone else fitted themselves in where they could. 

With Christmas carols playing on the radio and a dozen conversations going at once, it was hardly surprising that no-one heard the doorbell ring. 

So the first indication that more members of the extended Giles "family" had arrived was a voice announcing, "See, I told you it couldn't be a herd of elephants." 

Willow Rosenburg was grinning at her friends, her partner standing a pace behind her and trying not to laugh. 

"Merry Christmas," Tara added, deciding to go with tact rather than insults. 

Buffy, laughing, gestured them into the kitchen. "You might have to turn someone into a toad to find a seat, but come and join us. Hazel said... Good grief!" 

She broke off as the two women entered the room and she see could see just how much food they had brought with them. 

"Told you they were baking," Hazel pointed out with a chuckle. 

"A task from which you bailed early," Willow retorted. 

Hazel shrugged. "It was when Tara started looking for the newt eyes I decided it was time to leave." 

"Please," Giles begged in a tight voice, "Tell me there aren't any eyes in the edibles." 

"Of course not," Tara protested indignantly. She gave her daughter a look. "Really, Hazel." 

"Okay, I'm kidding," Hazel admitted. "Relax, Uncle Giles. No eye of newt." 

"What's noot eye?" Miri asked curiously. 

"Eat your pancakes," her father told her crushingly. Miri sighed and did as she was told. 

Laughing, Willow and Tara came into the kitchen, miraculously found space for their own contributions to the day's food, then went looking for plates and pancakes for themselves. 

Joy turned away from the window to look at the various family and friends scattered around the living room. "No wonder they're late," she announced. "I think they've brought the whole tribe. There's a car _and_ a minivan pulling up outside." 

"Really?" Brianna came up beside her and peered through the curtains. "And they're both full," she added as more and more people started piling out of the vehicles. "Clan Harris arrives." 

After a pause while the adults outside tried to keep track of all the children, the party started up the walkway and a moment later the doorbell rang. 

"I'll get it." Buffy got up, secretly delighted, as always, when Rupert immediately stood and came to the door with her. This was _their_ house and they did things like welcoming their guests together. They had for thirty years and neither had any intention of changing things now. 

Xander was the first through the door. He gave Buffy a hug and a kiss, then shook hands with Giles. "Merry Christmas, both of you." He pretended to do a double take and stepped back a pace. "Why G-Man, you're looking good. You haven't aged a bit." 

"Very funny," Giles said drily. It was an old joke, and starting to get very tired. "And don't call me that." 

Anya, who had followed her husband inside, studied Giles critically. "Actually, he is looking kind of older." 

Well used to Anya by now, Buffy just nodded. "I think he is, too. The gift was that he wouldn't age until I caught up with him. Technically, that happened a couple of years ago and I think it's starting to show now." 

She smiled at her husband, both of them remembering a long ago, unforgettable day. Buffy's thirtieth birthday, almost unbelievable in itself when most Slayers never survived to see twenty, and the even more amazing surprise of a personal visit from one of the Powers, or one of their representatives, at least. "I'm only a messenger," he had insisted, and with his attitude and Irish accent, they had been inclined to believe him. 

But they were soon infinitely more interested in the message than the messenger. A message that had never been given before, because its requirements had never before been reached. If a Slayer reached thirty, he told them, she was automatically retired and a new one called. Buffy Summers - Buffy Giles as she already was by then - was the first. And, "for services above and beyond," the little man had added sardonically, there was an extra gift. One for her husband. 

Amazingly, Sunnydale being the place it was, they had never needed to explain it either. If people noticed that the lovely Mrs Giles was aging with as much grace and charm as three toddlers allowed, somehow they always missed that fact that her husband wasn't doing the same. 

_But I think Anya's right_, Buffy reflected as she gave Rupert another look. _He's started to age again._ She smiled. _That's okay. Now we do the "growing old together" part. I've been waiting for that._ She chuckled suddenly and everyone turned to look at her. 

"Yep, Anya's right," she said with a grin. "Xander, you're going to have to come up with a new joke." 

"Thank goodness," Giles added in a heartfelt tone as he welcomed in the rest of his guests. 

The Harris family really could only be described as a "tribe" or, as Xander declared in more trying moments, possibly a "horde". He and Anya had five children, from the eldest, Peter (married and working in Saudi Arabia with his wife, although their three children were staying with Grandma and Grandpa for the holidays) down to Jake (just eleven and their "afterthought") and six grandchildren so far. That number looked quite likely to continue to grow as the years went by, and both Harris elders tended to look on their expanding dynasty with a kind of smug satisfaction tinged with a degree of disbelief. 

They trooped on through to the living room until Anya, idly looking up, noticed the sprig of mistletoe hanging at the centre of the archway that opened into the room. She shot out a hand and dragged her husband backwards, causing a pile up behind her. 

"Xander, you have to kiss me now." 

"Whatever you say, dear." Xander tried to sound put-upon, but failed miserably. 

Jake watched his parents for a moment, then rolled his eyes. "That is _so_ gross." 

Susan laughed. "Just wait until you get a bit older," she predicted. 

"Never!" Jake proclaimed. "It's icky." 

"You'll change your mind," his father promised as he finally managed to disentangle himself from his wife and went to drape himself all over the only remaining empty chair. Anya followed and draped herself all over Xander. 

"It's gross," Jake repeated. 

Susan laughed. "Is not," she retorted. "Nothing beats a good kiss." 

"Or nothing you going to tell an eleven year old about in _my_ house anyway," Buffy corrected. 

Susan laughed and dragged her husband to his feet. "Come on, love. We're going to show him." 

"Do I _have_ to?" Wesley Giles, twenty-eight like his twin sister, was physically her opposite. Where Brianna had inherited their father's height and build, Wesley was slight and only a few inches taller than his mother. He often joked that he had been obliged to marry Susan because she was the only one of his girlfriends who had been shorter than he was. 

"Of course you do," his wife informed him firmly, taking his hand and pulling him under the mistletoe. "It's educational." 

"Sure it is," Brianna said with a snort. 

"You just want an excuse for smoochies with your husband," Willow added with a chuckle. 

At that, Wesley laughed. "Why, Aunt Willow, who ever said an excuse was required?" 

He caught his wife in his arms, spun her around and dipped her over as if they had been dancing a tango. "Educational, huh?" he whispered as he bent his head to kiss her. 

"Mmmm," Susan murmured before uttering a startled shriek as her feet slipped from under her and she started to fall. Wesley just managed to catch her in time, both of them staggering as they struggled to regain their balance. 

Jake started to laugh. 

"Right, that does it." There was steel in Susan's voice, the tone that had made her younger brothers run for cover when they were children. As soon as she had her balance back, she reached up to remove Wesley's glasses, slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a _real_ kiss. 

It was the same as it always was between them, fire and peace in equal measure, and when they finally pulled apart she found Wesley looking at her with a tender, almost dopey expression on his face. "You know," he said softly, "When I take off my glasses, you're beautiful." 

"I know." Susan smiled, and kissed him again. 

"That's disgusting," Jake declared when he couldn't stand it any more. When the adults around him just started laughing, he glowered. "I'm going to look at the tree where there's no kissing." 

"Jake," Xander warned sternly, but Giles shook his head. 

"Let them go and look. We can all join them shortly. But," he added warningly as children began to swarm towards the door, "Just looking. No touching or opening until we get there." 

Jake gave a long-suffering sigh. "I _know_ that, Uncle Rupert." He gathered together his gaggle of children - his uncle's three, Aunt Jennifer's twins Ann and Alison, and Miri - and led them into the corridor. "I'm not a _baby_," he finished in an aggrieved mutter and let the door bang shut behind him. He probably wouldn't have appreciated it if he had heard all the adults burst into laughter once again the moment the door had closed behind him. 


	5. O Tannenbaum

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
O Tannenbaum  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

It was a well-established tradition by now. The big pine tree was set up in the smaller sitting room the week before Christmas. Any gifts for those members of the "Scooby family" who could visit that year were added to the pile on the floor and on Christmas morning, once everyone was gathered, there would be a major bout of present opening. (Always followed the next day by a major bout of cleaning up torn and discarded Christmas paper.) 

The tree dominated its corner of the room, occasionally shedding pine needles onto the carpet and always filling the room with its rich, almost warm scent. Neither Buffy nor Giles had ever been prepared too accept anything less than a living, photosynthesising member of the fir family into their home at Christmas, and this year's tree was a particularly impressive member of the species. 

It was heavily decorated since Buffy could never bear to leave any potential decoration off. The year they were married they had only had a shoebox of trinkets and a tiny string of lights. Now, as Wesley had grumbled as he hauled the crate up the basement stairs for his mother, they had thirty years worth of accumulated fancies and fripperies. He had predicted that in another year or so the tree would fall over under its own weight, but Buffy had just laughed at him and sent him back for the ladder. 

How could she throw anything away when every bauble, every twist of tinsel and string of beads held a memory? It was impossible. And Rupert, understanding, had simply bought them a house with both a big basement and a large attic. 

The star at the top had been Rupert's grandmother's - not the one who had been a Watcher, the other one. It was a delicate creation of twisted gold wire and crystal beads and it glittered in the lamplight, just like the star it was supposed to represent. 

There were other decorations that had been hers - old fashioned coloured balls with scenes inside, glass creations like spun sugar, bells that chimed in soft, tinkling tones, wire snowflakes and icicles. They were beautiful, precious remnants of a by-gone age from a country that, at times, seemed to belong on another planet altogether from her native Southern California. 

There were newer creations too, less expensive, but equally precious. Near the top, twisting though the pine boughs, was a string of lettered beads that had been painstakingly put together by Wesley and Brianna when they were six. It read "Mery Chrismiss Mommy an Daddy", something that had proved to be of great embarrassment to the twins once they learned to spell a little better. They had spent a lot of years trying to stop their mother putting it on the tree, but it never worked. No matter what they did with it, Buffy always managed to track it down and it was always somewhere on the tree come Christmas morning. 

There were other homemade decorations, too - Wesley's, Brianna's, Joy's, even a few Buffy and Dawn had made long, long ago when they still lived in Los Angeles. As a teenager, Buffy hadn't been able to understand why Joyce had kept them; now, as a mother herself, she pulled them out every year and added them to the Christmas tree. 

Letting her gaze roam across the branches, Buffy felt her breath catch at the sight of a cracked glass icicle hanging near the wall. It was a cheap thing, made of fake crystal and coloured glass, but Buffy made sure that each year it joined everything else on the tree. It had been a gift from Faith that fateful Christmas when she was seventeen, just before everything had fallen apart. 

Then there were Rupert's contributions. Thirty of them, one for every year they had been married. From the little green elf he had given her on their first Christmas together to the soft felt reindeer, with lopsided antlers and does eyes, that he had given her just days ago. 

As for the newest decoration, that was a paper angel, crudely coloured with red and purple crayon, the roughly cut edges glued together with paste. Miri had proudly presented it to her the morning before, and watched with wide, satisfied eyes as Buffy hung it on the tree. 

A lot of meaning and a lot of memories in baubles for a tree. And every single one of them precious and special. 

"I still don't get it." Anya's voice suddenly broke in on Buffy's memories, snapping her back to reality and leaving her feeling unexpectedly disoriented. 

"Mom!" Jennifer hissed, glaring at her mother, who, as usual, remained totally oblivious. 

"Why make funny things when you have money and can buy nicer ones?" Anya sounded genuinely puzzled, and Buffy couldn't decide whether to laugh or shout at her. 

Rupert was suddenly beside her, slipping an arm around her waist and making the decision for her. "We like them," he answered patiently. "Everything on our tree means something. They tell us we have friends." His gaze drifted across the room, pausing at each of his children in turn. "They tell us our children love us." His arm at Buffy's waist tightened a moment, pulling her closer. "They tell us we love each other. And that's what Christmas is all about. Love. That's why we have "funny things" on our tree, Anya." 

"Oh." She thought about it for a moment. "Okay. That's sweet." She turned to give her own family a challenging look. "But we're still buying nicer ones." 


	6. Coals to Newcastle

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Coals to Newcastle  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

The tea was finished, the adults were relaxed, and the children were fidgety. Willow and Tara had cleared away the remains of their cookies and cakes. That meant it was time to start opening Christmas presents. 

Jake gave Giles a pleading look that clearly said, "Can we open them _now_, Uncle Rupert?" 

Giles was about to nod - traditionally his privilege as patriarch not only of the Giles family, but also of the entire Scooby Gang, from the very first day it had formed in the Sunnydale High School library, almost forty years earlier. Before he could say a word though, Anya beat him to it. 

"Come on," she insisted. "Presents!" She leaped to her feet and went trawling through the pile under the tree until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a flat package, perfectly wrapped with expensive paper, gold ribbon and an enormous bow. She thrust it in her husband's face and ordered, "Open it, Xander. Now!" 

Startled, Xander only just managed to catch it before it tumbled to the floor. Acutely self-conscious of the fact everyone was starting at him, he started unwrapping the gift, careful not to tear the paper. Anya rolled her eyes - she always ripped it off with the gleeful delight of a three year old - but she said nothing, just gazed intently at her husband to see what he would think. She was sure she'd finally worked this one out. Xander would be pleased, the day would be good - and there would be lots of sex tonight after the children had gone to bed. 

Xander finally got through the layers of wrapping to find a Christmas stocking, red and green with gold stitching and fur trim, a gold tassel hanging from the back seam. The was something small and round inside, tucked away down in the toe. He tipped it up, gave it a shake and a lump of black, shiny coal rolled out into the palm of his hand. 

"Ooooh, someone's been bad," Kelly said with a chuckle. 

"Dad, what _have_ you been up to this year?" his sister Tricia added, laughing. 

Anya stared at her children as if they were insane. "What are you talking about?" 

"That's what the tradition means," Xander explained patiently, rather relieved that this seemed to be another Anya-misunderstanding, rather than an indication of how she was currently feeling about him. He preferred kissing under the mistletoe to being on the wrong side of a wife who was also an ex-Vengeance demon. Anya might have been human for thirty five years, but when you're over 1000 years old, that's really not a very long time. "If you put coal in someone's stocking, it means they've been bad this year," he finished and waited to see how she would react. 

"Oh," she said finally. There was a moment's pause, then she added, "That's stupid." 

"That's the tradition, Mom," Jennifer told her with a shrug. "Has Dad been bad?" she added wickedly. 

Anya clearly had other things on her mind. "But Giles _always_ gives Buffy coal," she protested. "I thought it was a _good_ present." She looked totally devastated and Xander handed the disastrous gift off to the nearest person and stood up to give his wife a hug. 

"It's a fine present, Anya," he said soothingly. "If you meant it to be a good present, then it _is_ a good present. Come on." He pulled her down into the chair with him and she sat on his knee, a distressed expression still on her face. One that soon turned into an annoyed frown. 

She glared at Giles. "So why do you always give Buffy coal? Is she always bad?" 

"I'm never bad," Buffy assured her airily. "Never, never, never." 

"What about burning down the gym and blowing up the library and demolishing the town hall?" Dawn asked her older sister with a nasty grin. 

"Well, technically, I'm the one who blew up the library," Giles commented mildly. 

"And you haven't given me my coal this year anyway," Buffy told him pointedly. For a instant, her assured expression faltered. "I have got some this year, haven't I?" she asked, and in her voice there was a smallest trace of the unsure adolescent she had been all those years before. 

Without saying anything, Giles unhooked one of the stockings from the mantlepiece and handed it to her. "Of course you have, love." 

Buffy tipped and shook, just as Xander had done, and when the chunk of carbon landed in her palm, her face broke into a brilliant, blinding smile. She rose to her feet and crossed the room to a small table, where a large glass jar was already three quarters full with a twenty year collection of lumps of coal. She turned back to the room, but she saw only her husband. "Love you too, Rupert," she said softly, and he smiled. 

"I still don't get it," Anya announced. She gave Buffy a sharp look. "Explain, please." 

"It's personal," Buffy answered. "You don't need to know." 

"Come on, Mom," Brianna wheedled. "I've always wondered, too." 

"And we've never had such a good lead in to asking than this," Wesley added. "Thanks, Aunt Anya." 

Giles glanced at their youngest daughter. "You too, Joy?" 

"Me too," she agreed. "Dad, why _do_ you give Mom coal for Christmas? It's such a _weird_ thing to do." 

Brianna was nodding. "And I don't think I ever even realised it was weird until Aunt Anya pointed it out. Why?" 

"Why, why, why, Delilah," Alison sang suddenly, clearly deciding she should be part of the conversation, and Ann giggled, mostly in support of her twin. The entire room dissolved into gales of laughter, and Alison grinned. She had no idea what she'd just done, but she must have been funny, so that was good. 

When he finally managed to get his breath back, Giles turned to Anya. "The coal in the stocking thing isn't really a weird human custom, you know. It's a weird _American_ custom. I thought I was so clever when I thought of it, and Buffy was even more shocked than Xander was just now when she found what was inside her stocking." 

"I thought he was insulting me," Buffy agreed with a nod. "But he was telling me he loved me. That's why I have a jar of coal. It's a whole lot of "I love you"s." 

"Huh?" Xander said blankly, and Buffy had to smile at the confused expressions around the room. 

"I don't get it," Brianna said quietly to Angel, and he was about to nod agreement when he suddenly realised that he did. 

There was so much love there; the bond between Buffy and Giles was something there were no words to describe. It went way beyond the soulmates he and Buffy had imagined they were so long ago. The were more than a part of each other, they _were_ each other. Buffy was Giles, and Giles Buffy. They didn't need to tell each other they loved each other because they both knew it, absolutely, in their bones and their blood and the way their hearts beat in time whenever they were close. They did it anyway, but they didn't need to. 

"Coals to Newcastle," he said softly. 

Giles gave him a surprised look, then nodded. "Coals to Newcastle." 

This time, the "huh"s were pretty much universal. 

"It's a saying," Angel explained. "Carrying coals to Newcastle." 

"Newcastle was a coal mining town in Northern England," Giles continued. "There's no need to take coal there - they have enough already. So it means doing something unnecessary." 

"I know Rupert loves me," Buffy said quietly. "I know he always will. He doesn't have to tell me, but he does anyway." 

Giles smiled at his wife. "So one year I gave her a piece of coal for Christmas. I've done it every year since." 

"Oh," Tara sighed. "That's so sweet." 

Willow nodded in agreement. She grinned at her best friend. "And one of the world's greatest mysteries has been explained." 

Unable to help herself, Buffy began to laugh. "I don't know about that." 

"Gran?" Miri asked into the silence that followed. "Can we open the presents now?" 


	7. Peppermint Tea

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Peppermint Tea  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

"This is just wonderful." Lisa Carstairs smiled at her hostess, her accent reminding Buffy of Rupert's. It wasn't the same. In fact, it was very different, but she could hear a resemblance anyway. "I love peppermint tea." 

"And chamomile, and jasmine, and rosehip, and lemon, and just about anything else you can think of," her partner Kelly added with a fond smile. 

Without thinking, Lisa stuck her tongue out at him, and then looked mortified. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that." 

"Don't worry about it," Xander told her with a shrug. "There's been more name calling, tongue poking and hair pulling around here than anyone can count." 

Lisa shook her head. "I'm sorry," she told Buffy again, before her gaze moved to Giles. "I really am." 

"Although I wouldn't have put it quite that way, Xander is right," Giles reassured her. "We've already survived just about everything there is to survive." 

"Except an attack of killer bunnies," Anya added darkly. 

Startled, Lisa stared at her. This was her first Scooby Christmas; her first American Christmas in fact, and in the five months since she had moved to the States with Kelly, she still hadn't quite gotten the measure of his mother. When she confided that to him, late one night, he had just laughed. "Don't worry," he had told her, pulling her closer. "Dad once told me it took him about fifteen years. And we're just used to her 'cause she's our Mom." 

Lisa hadn't been sure if that helped or not. She'd met Kelly four years previously, when he'd been travelling around the world. He was staying at her parent's camping ground in New Zealand and she had been home for the holidays at the same time. They were both blown away to discover there really was such a thing as "love at first sight" - and that it had decided to hit each of them around the head with a very, very large brick. 

Their son Alex, safely sleeping in a travelling cot in Joy's bedroom, was eighteen months old now, and at the beginning of the year they had decided it was time he was introduced to his American relatives. She was getting used to this new country, but she still found a lot of things very different from her small town, small country background. And she was getting rather tired of people telling her she had a lovely accent and asking if she was British or Australian. 

"Don't worry about it," Buffy insisted, stirring her own tea with its unusual spoon. "Just enjoy the tea. It's Christmas, you're family and nobody is going to be offended over anything." 

_You're family._ She meant it, Lisa realised. Completely and totally, just as Kelly's parents had when she, Kelly and Alex arrived on their doorstep, shattered and exhausted after a succession of late flights and missed connections. Her own family was close, but she had never experienced anything like this - this sprawling, extended, unique definition of a family. For the first time since she had stepped off the plane at LAX, Lisa began to feel like this strange new land was going to be a home. 

"What's the base tea, Giles?" she asked, ignoring Kelly's theatrical groan beside her. She liked tea; she liked brewing it, experimenting with it, trying new things - and this was totally new. "Earl Grey?" 

"That's right," Giles agreed with a nod. Rude though it had seemed at first, he had insisted she call him Giles, and now, only an hour after meeting him, it already felt right. 

"And using candy canes to flavour it - that's brilliant. How did you come up with the idea?" 

Buffy exchanged a private, amused look with her husband. "It was an accident," she said simply. "We were clearing up one Christmas and I managed to knock one of the left over candy canes into the pot of tea Rupert was brewing." 

Giles smiled at her, a soul-melting, wicked smile that just about made her dissolve into a puddle of ooze right there and then, and she had to struggle to keep a straight face. Nobody but the two of them knew the full story behind the tradition of what their children had come to call "candy cane tea", and they had no intention of ever telling. 

Everything she had just told Lisa was true - if a little lacking in the details. It had been the Christmas the twins were six and yes, she had been doing the tidying up while Rupert made them tea. He had come up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and set the teapot down. It was when he brushed aside her hair and started kissing her neck that the handful of candy canes she was planning to put in an empty tin slipped from her fingers to fall to the bench with a clatter. And that was when one landed in the teapot. 

Neither of them had cared. She turned in his arms and lifted her face to his, and his teasing kisses had grown more serious. A whole lot more serious. To the point where one soft brush of his lips on the nape of her neck soon turned into full on, mind-blowing sex on the kitchen table. They had made Joy while the tea turned minty and went cold. 

A year later, Buffy was trying to comfort a howling, three-month old Joy, while trying to stop Wesley and Brianna from coming to blows over the Chemistry set Dawn had been stupid enough to give them as a joint Christmas present. Rupert came into the room and handed her a cup of tea with a candy cane resting in the liquid instead of a spoon. He didn't say anything, just kissed her, brushed his hand softly across Joy's baby curls and went to break up the twins before they did each other any serious damage. 

People thought Joy was named after Buffy's mother, and she and Rupert were quite happy to let them go on believing that. Joy instead of Joyce, to avoid any confusion. But they knew better. Their girl was their Christmas Joy and she always would be. And every year, there was peppermint tea at Christmas. 

"Serendipity," Giles added to Lisa, but his eyes were on his younger daughter. "A fortuitous coincidence." 


	8. Sneaky, Sneaky

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Sneaky, Sneaky  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

Dawn was sneaking out of the room, trying not to be noticed, when she bumped into Tara, who was clearly doing exactly the same thing. They managed to shoulder their way through the door and stumble to a halt in the hallway without being too obvious about it, and both burst into a fit of the giggles once they were safely out of earshot. 

"Are you doing what I'm doing?" Dawn asked with a final chuckle. 

For a second, Tara flushed red, then her colour settled and she nodded. "I'm going to get a present for Willow. It wasn't something I could put under the tree, so Buffy let me hide it in the basement." 

"I'm getting Miri's present for Susan," Dawn admitted. "We finished putting it together yesterday and it's hidden in the attic." 

Tara smiled. "Great minds, huh, Dawnie?" 

Dawn nodded and tipped her head in the direction of the room they had just left. "See you back inside." 

They parted ways at the stairs, Tara heading down to retrieve whatever she had secreted in the basement, Dawn going up to collect the contraption Miri had insisted was "perfect for Mommy". 

She switched on the attic light and stared at Miri's gift with a certain degree of disbelief. Too big for a single sheet of paper, it was wrapped in a patchwork collection of Christmas paper and coloured advertising leaflets (because Miri insisted they were pretty and Auntie Dawn should use them, too). She might have been able to sneak out of the gift opening, but there was absolutely no way she was going to be able to sneak back in again carrying that. Still, most of the presents were unwrapped now and the children were already playing with their new toys, so she probably wouldn't cause too much of a disturbance. 

She could barely see where she was going coming down the stairs, and was greatly relieved when she reached the safety of the downstairs hallway again. She juggled the parcel slightly, improving her grip, then shouldered the door open and - since she couldn't be stealthy about it - made sure she made a grand entrance. 

It was Miri, of course, who saw her first. Mostly because she had been waiting in breathless anticipation ever since she realised Dawn had left the room. Now she jumped to her feet, grabbed Dawn's elbow (the only part of her currently available and reachable to a four-year old) and dragged her great-aunt over to her mother. 

"It's your present, Mommy," she declared. "Auntie Dawn helped me." 

Dawn lowered the monstrosity to the ground and went back to her chair, acknowledging Susan's quick smile with a nod. The present was from Miri - Dawn had delivered it and now her part was done. A quick glance around showed her Tara wasn't back yet, but Willow was too busy watching Susan and Miri to notice that her partner had gone AWOL. 

Susan unwrapped the gift with care, making sure she told Miriam how pretty the paper was, wondering all the time what she was going to find inside. The last piece of paper finally fell away and she found herself staring at a painted . . . something. 

"It's beautiful, love," she told Miri, hoping she'd get some clue about what it was. 

"It's a windmill," Miri said happily, completely missing the look of slight desperation in her mother's eyes. Wesley had seen it, and he was trying desperately not to laugh. Dawn glared at him, daring him to make a sound, which only seemed to make things worse. 

"A windmill, Kitten?" he managed to ask at last. 

Miri nodded. "For Mommy's garden. It's a dragon." 

To Dawn, who had seen the wooden pieces of the kit before Miri had started painting them, it _was_ a dragon. It was designed to stand or hang in a garden, and various portions of it spun, swung and flapped in the wind. Dawn had checked with Buffy, then taken over the attic, laid down paint cloths for safety and handed the kit pieces over to Miri to do with as she liked. Since the creature now had a purple head with a green body, pink spots on its tail and striped wings of red, black and lurid yellow, Dawn couldn't really blame Susan for failing to discern its identity. 

Oh, and now that she looked, she noticed Miri had forgotten to give it any eyes. Maybe she could fix that with a spot of white paint when no-one was looking... 

Comprehension filled Susan's eyes. "Oh, Miri love, it is _so_ a dragon." She pulled her daughter into her arms, careful not to knock over her gift, and hugged the little girl. "And you remembered I like dragons. Aren't you clever?" 

Miri nodded contentedly. 

"I've got a surprise, too," a new voice added, and Dawn saw that Tara was back, awkwardly hiding something behind her back. 

Turning to look at Willow, she was surprised to see the other woman getting up. She joined Tara at the door and together they marched across the room - towards Dawn. 

She gave them a suspicious look. "What's going on?" 

"I lied," Tara admitted. "What I was getting is for you." 

"Me?" Dawn repeated, knowing she sounded like an idiot, but not able to help herself. "You already gave me the yarn to knit those booties for Jeremy." 

"Well," Willow began with a wicked glint in her eyes, "The yarn isn't really for Jeremy. In fact, it isn't even for knitting." 

"It's for this little lady," Tara finished, carefully producing a box from behind her back. It was covered in Christmas wrapping paper, but strangely, had no top. She laid it carefully on Dawn's lap, and Dawn immediately saw why. 

Curled up inside, sleeping the sleep of the adorably cute, was a little ginger kitten. Tara muttered something under her breath and the cat opened sleepy green eyes, looked up at Dawn and yawned, showing sharp little teeth and a pink tongue. Dawn, of course, had no choice but to fall instantly in love. 

"I cheated," Tara said. "Just a little. I made her sleep so she didn't give herself away as I brought her in. She's fine now." 

Dawn tickled the kitten under the chin, making the little animal purr happily, and gave her friends an accusing look. "Sneaky." 

"You can't talk," Tara said firmly. "I met you on the stairs, remember?" 

"Every house needs a cat," Willow told Dawn. "And since you haven't got one at the moment and you just moved, you need a brand new cat." 

Dawn looked down at her new pet again and sighed. "She's gorgeous," she admitted. "Thank you." 

"So what are you going to call her?" Buffy asked her sister. Having been in on the secret all along, she didn't have the same kind of surprised expression on her face that a lot of the other people in the room did. 

Dawn looked at Tara and Willow again. "Witchy-Poo, I think," she said wickedly. 


	9. I Can Feel You Breathe

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
I Can Feel You Breathe  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

The kitten was having a wonderful time. 

There was all this crinkly, coloured paper to explore. She could hide in it and pounce out when some ankles walked by. She could twist and turn and slide on her tummy until she had her own little nest to curl up in. She could attack it with her teeth and her claws and rip it to sheds and no-one seemed to mind. 

And if that got boring, people kept waving bits of ribbon and string at her, and she could rush around trying to catch them until she was exhausted. Then she could go back to the paper for a brief spot of R&R before starting all over again. 

The small people weren't so much fun - they kept trying to grab her tail and pick her up with sticky, grabbing little hands. But they were gone now; the grown-ups had sent them outside to play and the kitten had the paper and string all to herself while the adults talked among themselves. 

"Now?" 

It had all seemed easy, simple and perfect, last night. Now, Brianna discovered she had an entire garden's-worth of butterflies in her stomach. 

Angel smiled at her, soft and gentle, and suddenly everything was clear again. "Now," he agreed. 

Brianna stood up, but made no real attempt to attract the attention of the party. She almost jumped out of her skin when a piercing whistle came from behind her. The kitten started and hurtled back into her nest of paper. Everyone else turned to stare. 

"Brianna has something to say," Angel said mildly. 

Anya looked impressed. "Where did you learn to make that horrible noise?" she asked. 

"London, 1856," Angel answered obligingly. "Now, listen to Brianna." 

"Bree?" Buffy gave her daughter a questioning look. 

Brianna looked down at her hands, back up at her parents, then down again. Angel poked her in the back surreptitiously and she jumped, immediately trying not to show any reaction. Calm and certain was what was needed now, not nervous and jumpy. _Oh well, might as well leap right in..._

"Angel and I got engaged last night," she announced, and waited for the storm to break. 

It did - with a crash and bang that would have made any self-respecting thunderstorm extremely jealous. Angel stood and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and just waiting, a reassuring pool of calm. 

Finally, Giles managed to bring some order to the room by producing an ear-splitting whistle of his own. The following silence was almost more oppressive than the noise had been. 

"Do you think that's wise?" Buffy asked carefully. 

"Hello..." Xander interrupted. "Curse, remember?" 

"That is a concern," Giles agreed. "The world has been doing rather well in recent years. I don't think it really needs another visit from Angelus." 

"And," Buffy added in a hard voice, "I don't want anyone marrying my daughter who isn't going to make her perfectly happy and be perfectly happy with her. I'm sorry Angel, but that rather puts you out of the running." 

"What about what _I_ want?" Brianna demanded angrily. "This isn't just about him. It's about both of us." 

"Been there, done that," her mother said flatly. 

"Ooh..." Brianna had a sudden urge to hit something. "For starters, I'm not seventeen, and..." 

"Hey." Angel rested his chin on her shoulder, the movement soothing, and she took a deep breath, understanding what he was trying to tell her. It had been her idea to break their news this way, and she wasn't going to help anything if she let herself get angry. 

"Those are fair concerns," Angel added, speaking both to her and to the room at large. "Let me?" he added, speaking only to Brianna. 

She nodded, and he kissed her cheek and let her go. 

He walked across the room and knelt on the floor in front of Buffy's chair. He reached out and gently took one of her hands in his, setting it against his chest. For a moment she stared at him in confusion, then her expression changed, turning to one of disbelief and awe. 

Angel nodded, and she lifted her hand to touch his face. "I can feel you breathe," she whispered softly. 

For a moment she didn't move, then slowly she began to smile, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Rupert," she said softly, "Angel's human." 

"Human," Giles repeated automatically. Then the word sunk in. "_Human_?" 

"It happened last night," Brianna said, coming over and sinking to the floor beside Angel, smiling up at her mother. "When he asked me." 

"Oh, Brianna." Buffy hugged her daughter, really crying now. 

"Are you happy for me, Mommy?" They were a little girl's words, asking for acceptance and reassurance. 

"What a silly question." Buffy brushed ineffectually at the tears on her cheeks, and expanded the hug to include Angel. "Of course I'm happy. For both of you." 

Brianna's gaze turned to her father. "Dad?" 

Giles was still looking like someone had just hit him over the head. "_Human_?" he said for the third time. 

Seeing a worried look growing on Brianna's face, he took a deep, calming breath. "Of course I am, love." He tried to smile, managing it on his second attempt, and reached out to cup her cheek with his hand. "Shocked, surprised, intrigued, astounded..." He was running out of adjectives and he suddenly realised it didn't matter. "I'm happy for you both," he said simply instead. 

"Well, of course you are," Joy's voice broke in. "Angel's human, Bree's engaged, it's Christmas. Everyone's happy." She laughed and pulled her sister to her feet. "Come on Bree, hugs are required." 

Laughing, Brianna rose to her feet, returning Joy's embrace. That was the signal for hugs and congratulations all round, as Brianna and Angel were surrounded. 

"You know what this means, kiddo?" Xander grumbled as he kissed Brianna on the cheek. 

Caught between laughter and tears, she smiled at him. "What, Uncle Xander?" 

"Not only have I lost my best Giles joke, I can't call your boyfriend Deadboy anymore, either." He offered his hand to Angel. "Congratulations," he said seriously. "You deserve it. Brianna and humanity, both." 

Angel smiled as they shook hands. "In that order. Thank you, Xander." 

"I'm glad you've got the order worked out right," Giles said with an attempt at gravity. 

"I do," Angel assured him. "I..." 

"Hey!" Buffy's voice interrupted them suddenly, sounding highly annoyed. "Last night, huh? So that whole rushing in out of the sunrise thing was a put on?" 

Brianna laughed. "Sorry, Mom. You've gotta let a girl have some fun." 

"Humph..." Buffy muttered, not appeased. 

Looking at the disgruntled expression on his wife's face, Giles had to smile. After all that had passed between them so long ago, he found it both strange and oddly peaceful, the idea that he would soon have Angel as a son-in-law. An Angel who was warm and breathing and human, who clearly loved Brianna with a depth and passion that he had learned from loving her mother, all those years before. 

He offered his hand to the ex-vampire. "Welcome to the family." And unable to resist, he added, "Son." 


	10. We Three Kings

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
We Three Kings  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

"Do you know what this is all about?" Buffy asked her husband, as they obediently filed into the rumpus room after Tricia and Jennifer. 

He shook his head. "Not a clue. Just that Jake wants us here." 

Tricia looked back over her shoulder, having heard the exchange. "I wonder what the little monster has dreamed up this time?" 

"That's your brother you're insulting," Giles pointed out as they all found themselves seats. The dining room chairs had been dragged into the rumpus room and set up in a semi circle, arranged to face the braided rug on the floor beside the piano. 

"They've been enterprising, I must say," Jennifer added as she sat down. "I think we're going to get a concert." 

"Mom did get Jake to leave the trumpet at home, didn't she?" Tricia queried, sounding a little worried. 

"Jake has a _trumpet_?" Buffy asked. 

Tricia nodded. "He started taking lessons about three months ago." She lowered her voice. "Right now, he's _awful_." 

"Don't forget, he started by trying to get Mom and Dad to let him learn the bagpipes," Jennifer reminded her sister. "It could be worse." 

Giles groaned. "There is _nothing_ on this Earth worse than badly played bagpipes." 

"Angel singing?" Buffy suggested, and tried not to laugh when she heard her husband struggling to suppress a snort. "So we should be grateful for the trumpet?" she asked. 

"The trumpet got left behind," Jennifer said firmly. "Whatever he's come up with, that's not it." 

They were saved from making any further guesses by the arrival of Jake himself. He'd kept the party hat he'd been given at dinner, and added to it by borrowing a length of crimson tinsel from the Christmas tree and wrapped that around his neck as a tie. He was also wearing Kelly's coloured waistcoat that his brother had been foolish enough to leave lying across the back of a chair. It was several sizes too big for him, but he looked so serious no-one dared to even think of laughing. 

He waved his hands for silence, and when he got it, he bowed floridly and straightened up again. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced, "Allow me to introduce the Scooby Christmas Choir." He clapped his hands, and everyone joined in, waiting to see what might happen next. 

A procession of children marched into the room, each one dressed in some sort of put-together Christmas finery. Miri came first, wearing her mother's shoes and the spotted scarf Buffy and Giles had given her for Christmas. She was followed by the Harris grandchildren; Peter's three - Jack, Katie and Samuel - all wearing borrowed tinsel, and Jennifer's twins, Alison and Ann, sporting identical bows in their identical hair, also appropriated from the tree decorations. 

"I think our Christmas tree is naked," Buffy hissed to Giles, and he shushed her with a quiet chuckle. 

The children lined up, facing their audience, wearing expressions ranging from eager to bored. 

"We're going to sing you a Christmas carol," Jake announced. 

He turned back to his choir. "Are you ready?" There was a scattering of nods, and he waved his hands in the air as he imagined a conductor might. "Okay, one, two, three!" 

With varying degrees of talent and an unexpected clarity, the children began to sing. _ We Three Kings of Orient Are  
One on a tractor, two in a car  
One on a scooter, tooting a hooter  
Following yonder star  
_

Oh, Star of Wonder, Star of Light  
Star of Beauty, she'll be right  
Star of Glory, that's the story  
Following yonder star As they finished, Jake looked over his astounded audience and collapsed to the floor in a fit of the giggles. "Got you, got you, got you," he repeated breathlessly. 

"Where _did_ you learn that?" Xander demanded, not sure whether to laugh or play the stern father. 

"From me," a small voice said, and he turned to look at Lisa, who was staring at the floor, her face totally scarlet. "It's really, really old. It's from around when my parents were kids. They used to sing it sometimes, as a joke. I'm afraid I taught it to Jake." 

"I thought it was funny," Anya announced. "Well done, Jake. But there were four kings in the song, not three." 

"Oh." Jake looked surprised. He obviously hadn't picked up on that discrepancy. 

Lisa was starting to look a little less embarrassed. "You're right," she said in surprise. "That song's been around for sixty years or something, and no-one's pointed that out to me before." 

"Were we good, Granna?" Samuel asked, and Anya nodded vigorously. "You were great, kid." 

"How about we all sing some proper carols?" Dawn suggested. "Joy can play the piano, and Giles his guitar, and we can all sing." 

There was a token protest from the two so named, but they didn't stand a chance of getting out of it and they both knew it. Resigned, Joy sat at the piano, Giles settled his guitar on his knee and they asked for the first request. 


	11. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

_"Hark, the Herald Angels Sing."_

_"Away in a Manger."_

_"Joy to the World."_

_"Twelve Days of Christmas."_

_"Drummer Boy."_

_"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."_

The requests were coming thick and fast, without any consensus. 

Giles grinned at his daughter. "I think that means we get to choose." 

She nodded, and played a few bars. He joined her as soon as he recognised the tune, and their audience fell silent as they realised the choice had been made for them while they were arguing. 

Giles sang the first line alone, and Joy, who had inherited her singing voice from her father, joined him on the second. _ God rest ye merry gentlemen  
Let nothing ye dismay  
Remember Christ our Saviour  
Was born on Christmas Day _ They sang the old English carol to the end, and as the last note faded, found themselves exchanging slightly embarrassed glances. 

"I thought everyone was going to sing," Joy said. "Not just Dad and me." 

"You sounded too lovely to interrupt," Buffy told her. "How about something we all know to get everyone singing?" 

"Not lovely; sexy," Willow whispered to Tara, and Xander, who was sitting on her other side and knew exactly what she was referring to, poked her in the ribs. Willow poked him back with vigour. 

"What about _We Wish You a Merry Christmas_?" Tara suggested quickly, before it could turn into an all-out fight. 

Joy played an opening chord, and Giles joined her a moment later, strumming the first few bars. This time everybody sang; from Samuel, the youngest at a month younger than Miri, right through to Angel, who despite Buffy's comments, had improved since his Barry Manilow cover days. 

What had started out as Jake's concert was soon a full-blown Christmas sing-along. Requests poured in from the audience, and Giles and Joy did their best to keep up. Joy was forced to pull a book of carols out of the music rack at one point, but they managed to play most of the music from memory. 

They sang _The Twelve Days of Christmas_, and Xander was soon organising the children into playing out the different daily gifts. Samuel's co-ordination failed him on the lords a'leaping stanza, but Wesley managed to jump up and catch him before he hit his head on the coffee table, and disaster was averted. 

Giles sang _I Saw Three Ships_ on his own, accompanying himself on the guitar. Buffy listened, knowing her expression was turning dreamy. Rupert always had a lovely voice - she even rather liked Ripper's more strident accent on the occasions he, and it, surfaced - but there were two times when his voice could just make her melt like a lovesick teenager. _Instead of a lovesick fifty-five year old who should have grown out of it_, she reflected with an inward smile. When he sang like this, alone, his heart poured into the words, the world seemed to close in around them until only the two of them existed. And when he whispered her name and murmured endearments as they made love ... then, his voice could stop the universe. 

Anya got _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ as she had demanded, and she and her grandchildren sang with great gusto and little accuracy. 

"I hate that song," Willow whispered to Tara, instead of singing. "It's all about prejudice, persecution and revenge. I don't know why people like it so much." 

"That's probably _why_ Anya likes it so much," Tara suggested. "With her being an ex-Vengeance demon and all." She smiled suddenly. "Maybe she's the one who helped Rudolph get his own back." 

"Nah," Willow disagreed. "It wasn't messy enough for Anya." 

They got sidetracked from Christmas carols for a while, as the requests turned modern, historical and eventually downright silly. When Wesley, a totally serious expression on his face, suggested the ancient Moldavian national anthem and Tricia, academic prodigy of the newly rejuvenated Watcher's Council, offered to provide the words, Giles put his foot down. 

"Christmas carols," he said firmly. "It's Christmas." 

"Some of us don't exactly celebrate Christmas, Uncle Rupert," Hazel pointed out wickedly. 

"Oh yeah," Xander chimed in. "Gotta remember the Hanukkah spirit, right, Wills?" 

She pulled a face at him and didn't bother to answer. 

"Seasonal and Solstice, then," Giles conceded. "Anything else, you sing without accompaniment." 

"_Silent Night_," Buffy said quietly. 

Giles smiled at her, and strummed the opening chords. Joy joined in a moment later, and they all sang the beautiful, old German carol as the dusk settled in outside and the day drew to a close. 


	12. Wonders Never Cease

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Wonders Never Cease  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

The room was dark, except for the flickering of the TV screen in the corner. Susan took a moment to pull the curtains, shutting out the night, before curling up on the couch beside her husband. 

Wesley had Jeremy in his arms. The baby was sleeping peacefully, a stark contrast to half an hour ago, when he had been screaming fit to wake the dead. Wesley had escaped to the downstairs lounge with the baby and a bottle, in a desperate attempt to avoid waking the other sleeping children that were being bustled off home by their parents and grandparents. 

Susan had stayed with her in-laws to bid farewell to their guests. She carried a sleeping Katie out to the van and helped Xander strap her into her carry seat, while all around her the rest of the Harris clan readied for departure. It had taken the better part of an hour to get everyone strapped in and all the farewells said, and when she returned to the house, it was blessedly quiet. 

"He's asleep," Wesley whispered unnecessarily. "But for a while there, I didn't think it was going to happen." 

"It's his new teeth." 

"I know," Wesley agreed. "But Miri wasn't nearly as miserable as poor little Jemmy." He unconsciously brushed a hand across his son's hair as he spoke, and the baby gurgled and slept on. 

Susan shrugged. "Buffy says every baby is different, and when I asked my mom, she said the same thing. You, I hear, were a diabolical child when you were teething." 

Wesley, who had heard such defamatory stories many times before, refused to rise to the bait. "Well, I hope our little man gets those new teeth of his soon. I hate it when he cries like that." 

"I know," Susan agreed. "So do I." 

Suddenly, Wesley grinned. "But I know how to make him go to sleep, now. I walked him around the room for a good twenty minutes without it doing any good, so I turned on the TV. He was captivated, watched for a while and drifted off to sleep." 

Susan looked at the screen, seeing James Stewart and Donna Reed in all their black and white glory. "_It's a Wonderful Life_?" she said in surprise. "That's what put him to sleep?" 

Wesley nodded. "I think we should buy it on disk, and when he won't sleep, we play it." 

"You do realise that film must be nearly 100 years old by now," Susan pointed out, shaking her head. "And it's probably been played at Christmas every single one of those years." 

"Just proves you can't beat the classics." 

She laughed softly and rested her head against his shoulders, partly watching the screen, mostly aware of her husband's warm, solid presence beside her. "It was a good day, wasn't it?" 

"The best," he agreed. 

"Do you think Brianna will be happy?" 

Wesley chuckled. "If it hadn't been for their ... ah ... _unusual_ ... circumstances, Bree and Angel would have been married before I even met you." 

"So, that's a yes?" 

"A definite yes," Wesley agreed. 

"I married into a very bizarre family," Susan commented reflectively. 

"And would you have it any other way?" 

She lifted her head and kissed him lightly. "Not at all. Come on, let's get this little fellow to bed and do the same ourselves." 

Wesley smiled, and kissed her back. "I think I can handle that." 


	13. The End of a Perfect Day

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
The End of a Perfect Day  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

Buffy was sitting on the stairs, watching as her husband locked up for the night. "Everything's right now, you know," she said suddenly. 

Giles slid the last bolt home and turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" 

"You and me. Brianna and Angel. That's the way it was always meant to be. Me and Angel, that was Fate making a mistake." 

He came and sat beside her. "Maybe." 

"Definitely. Angel was all angst and pain. With you, it's different." 

"We had our moments," he reminded her. 

"Huh." She snorted. "You're not supposed to have an infallible memory, lover mine. Don't you forget that." 

He smiled, but his voice was serious. "I don't think you could have loved me the way you do if you hadn't loved Angel first. And I don't think Angel could love Brianna the way she deserves if he hadn't loved you first. I'm not so sure that Fate made a mistake." 

It was a point Buffy wasn't prepared to concede, even though she suspected he might be right, so she changed the subject. "Bree _is_ going to be happy, isn't she?" 

"Almost as happy as us," Giles predicted. "And if she isn't, I'll take Angel outside and I'll..." 

"Can't stake him," Buffy said, almost gleefully. "He's human now." 

"Don't worry," he assured her. "Fathers have been dealing with their daughter's boyfriends and husbands since the beginning of time. I'll come up with something." 

Buffy chuckled, slipping her arm through his. "I still can't believe it. Angel human." 

"It was prophesied a long time ago," her husband reminded her. 

"I know," she agreed. "But you know me and prophecy - I was usually trying to stop them coming true, not the other way around." 

"He deserves it," Giles said quietly. "He's made his amends." 

"I know. But it still doesn't seem real." 

"It will tomorrow," Giles promised her. "When he comes on our Boxing Day picnic with us and doesn't burst into flame." 

Buffy stood up. "I don't know why we still keep that weird English custom of yours." 

Her husband chuckled and got up to join her. "Because I convinced you it was a good idea a very long time ago." 

She pretended to have to think about it. "Oh, yeah. I remember now. My Slayer stamina had trouble keeping up with you that night." 

"Of course you did." He laughed and kissed her. 

"Gotta be prepared for that when you marry a stevedore," she teased when they broke apart. 

He reached out to flick off the light. "Come on, love. Let's go to bed." 

A moment later, her voice came to him out of the shadows. "I know they're a bit too old to need it, but come patrol with me?" 

Giles smiled, looking down at her as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "We haven't done that since Joy reached her teens." 

"I know. But tonight, it feels right." 

He slipped his arm around her shoulders. "All right, then. Let's patrol." 

They went silently up the stairs together, stopping first at the door to Joy's bedroom. Buffy pushed the door open and they looked in on their youngest child. She had tossed the blankets off as she slept, and now they made a jumbled pile on the carpet. Without even thinking about it, Buffy crept inside, rearranged the bedclothes and kissed her daughter lightly on the forehead. Joy stirred and mumbled something, but didn't wake, and Buffy slipped out again. 

The spare room's door was standing open. Inside, Miri was sprawled on her back, sleeping with an innocence only the very young can manage. Wesley was leaning over the cradle where Jeremy was sleeping, but he straightened up as his parents stood in the hallway outside. He tiptoed out to join them, and pulled the door almost shut behind himself. 

"Patrolling, huh?" he whispered with a grin, and his mother nodded a little sheepishly. 

"Old habits..." she answered quietly. "With all of you home again, it felt right." 

"I was checking on Jeremy," Wesley said. "He's having trouble with his teeth. But he seems to be fine at the moment. Susan's already asleep." 

"You should go and join her," his mother told him. 

Wesley smiled, and kissed his mother. "I will. Good night, Mom. Merry Christmas." 

"Merry Christmas, love." 

"Merry Christmas, Dad." Wesley left them to go back to bed, and Buffy took her husband's hand again. 

"Just Brianna, now." 

"Maybe we should leave Brianna alone," Giles suggested tactfully. 

Buffy stopped outside their eldest daughter's bedroom door. "No way." She shook her head firmly. "She wouldn't be ... well, you _know_ ... in her parents' house. She wouldn't. Would she?" 

"We did," Giles reminded her mildly. 

"But that was different," Buffy protested. There was a moment's pause. "Okay, it wasn't different, but still..." 

She listened at the door for a while, then put her hand on the knob. "It's quiet," she said. "And I just want to check on her. I _need_ to." 

Giles raised his hand in surrender. "Your call, love." 

So Buffy opened the door. 

Brianna was sound asleep, wrapped safely in Angel's arms. He looked barely more than twenty with the moonlight shining on his face as he slept, and Buffy smiled. _I was right, what I said to Rupert. We're all where we're supposed to be, now. And maybe he's right too. Maybe everything was leading us to today._

As she backed out of the room, she realised they had left the curtains open. Given the direction the room faced, they would be woken by the morning sunrise. 

She shut the door behind her and wrapped her arms around Giles' neck. "It's been a perfect day, Rupert." 

"It's not quite over yet," he answered, picking her up and carrying her along the hallway until they reached their own bedroom door. There, he set her on her feet again. 

"Look up," he said huskily. "You have to kiss me now." 

Buffy chuckled. "Look closer." 

He looked up at the sprig of mistletoe he had stuck above the door earlier in the day, and realised there was now a second cluster of leaves and berries pinned beside it. 

"You have to kiss me, too," Buffy said firmly. "Twice the mistletoe means twice the kisses." 

"I think I can probably manage that." He pulled her to him and bent his head as she lifted her face to his. "Merry Christmas, Buffy love," he whispered just before his lips closed on hers. 


	14. Addendum: Family Trees

MISTLETOE AND WINE  
Family Trees  
By Sauscony 

E-mail: sauscony@forty-two.co.nz  
Rating: G  
Pairings: Buffy/Giles and others  
Summary: Reply to a 2000 Christmas Challenge   
Disclaimer: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and _Angel_ characters are copyrighted ©20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and the WB, and are used without permission. No copyright infringment is intended. 

In response to a reader's request, this page contains a "family tree" for all the various children and grandchildren in _Mistletoe and Wine_. 

I had to create one for myself so I'm quite happy to share. 

I didn't mean to introduce so many new characters, but since the story is about 35 years in the future, I found as I started writing that I didn't seem to have a choice. 

So here you go... 

Buffy and Giles - three children  
* Brianna (twin to Wesley), 28  
* Wesley (twin to Brianna), 28 - married to Susan, daughter Miriam (Miri), son Jeremy  
* Joy, 21 

Willow and Tara - one adopted daughter  
* Hazel, 18 

Xander and Anya - five children  
* Peter - married to Jane (they're the ones in Saudi Arabia), children Jack, Katie and Sam  
* Jennifer - divorced, twins Alison and Ann  
* Tricia - unmarried  
* Kelly - partner Lisa, son Alex  
* Jake - the "afterthought", he's 11 

Sadly, Joyce and "our" Wesley are dead (sorry Wesley-lovers - I like him lots too, it's just that for this story, that's the way it turned out) 


End file.
